I’ve been trying to think of something to write about today, but have offically given up hope because my livingroom/computer station has been overrun with World of Warcraft nerds.

When I was looking up a nice reference for WoW, I asked Ass Burger Boy if he knew that there were cheats for WoW. ABB became very indignant, and refused to allow that there were any cheat codes whatsoever.

It’s nice that he has a friend, and truly nice that they have a hobby in common, but it’s not a far step up from the parallel play of toddlers, where they want company, but still want to do their own thing. Oh my, oh my, whatever will happen when the play becomes more socially complex? I don’t mistake cursing at bad moves for a socially complex activity.

Meanwhile, my ears are rebelling at the conversation full of jargon, but I understand the guys need to play.

My sister and her youngest are visiting tomorrow. I’m pretty excited about that as it’s been quite a while since I have seen her, and I have never seen the baby.

Maybe I’ll prepare a search term post for tomorrow.

Usually, when I have a health concern, I keep it to myself because other people’s fears are disproportionate to the situation. Yesterday, I really had nothing else to blog about, so I’m sorry if anyone was worried. I consider a lump, just that. A lump. It doesn’t automatically translate to cancer. It just calls for investigation. I have set the wheels in motion in a timely fashion.

However, since Ass Burger Boy reads my blog sometimes when he comes up for air from World of Warcraft, I thought it prudent to discuss it with him so he wouldn’t learn about it on the interweb.

I love to see the way his mind works. I can pretty much jump from thought bubble to thought bubble right along with him. And somehow? Every single thing in his life becomes all. about. him.

He doesn’t see eye-to-eye with his older brother, Dances With Shrapnel. That may have started around the time that Dances used to hold him down and fart on his face, but the resentment has built over the years. He’s a Cancerian who holds onto his grudges tenaciously.

I didn’t expect any questions like “What does this involve?” or “Are you gonna be okay?”, which is just as well because the first question he asked me was if he had to invite Dances With Shrapnel to my funeral.

We had to rehearse the protocol for procedure after my untimely demise before I could point out that lump does not equal cancer in most cases.

It’s always all about him.

You gotta love him.

The number one search term to date is “meat juice” . I’m not sure I want to know just what was in people’s minds when they searched for it, but I published a post that may have coined the term, and it did create a bit of buzz.

blogging mediocrity – Let’s not be cruel, people.

place your face on a movie star – Somehow, I don’t think the movie star would appreciate it.

Is meat juice blood? – Why, yes, yes it is.

“torture Bra” – This might be number two in the list of search terms. I think whoever did the searching might have been looking for a specific creepy device, but really, all bras are by nature, instruments of torture.

pictures that make your eyes bleed – Use your own imagination here.

fart breathing device – I’m not sure if this is intended to find a way to breathe when farts are around, or a device that lets you breathe actual farts. Wouldn’t that be a big seller?

what can i eat to make me fart? – I don’t know why you would want to know this, unless you are planning to produce fodder for the fart breathing device, but may I suggest beans?

are men only supposed to fart – I think this was prompted by Old Knudsen’s comment. They wanted to verify his information.

girls dont fart – I think we have settled that one.

see girls farting – Someone believes not only that girls do fart, but that there may be photographic evidence. The only visible farts are the ones you light. Are we sensing a trend here?

toilets “air assist” – Maybe if you need help farting? I’m good thanks. Nothing to see here folks, just move along.

badarse – This could happen after fart lighting gone terribly, terrribly wrong.

can you throw-up your poop? – If you eat it, I would think it would be mandatory.

wicked image – Of course, that is the kind of image you would expect from a Tool of Satan. In these parts, however, wicked can mean “very” as in, “This lobster is wicked good”. Lobster is another food that makes you fart.

how to make a girl horny with touch – I’m not sure how this got to me. I can only imagine the sad little man who so desperately wants to get laid.

how to get a boy horny give me advice – You’ll have to submit this question to “Ask witchypoo”.

whales as healers – Yes, but their office might be a bit quirky. And I would love to see their lab coats and stethoscopes.

what to do if your eye bleeds? – I would suggest getting yourself to the nearest whale healer as quickly as possible. They have big eyes, and would be sympathetic.

you know you’re old when – Sadly, I get a lot of these.

going on strike from your husband – I did that a long, long time ago. Although they call it divorce. It can be refreshingly freeing if you keep on walking sometimes.

rum for babies to go to sleep – This practice is frowned upon nowadays. I don’t know why, unless it’s the rampant use of Benedryl.

world of warcraft isnt a game – Yes, yes, it is. You, on the other hand, consider it a job because YOU HAVE NO LIFE.

Blogging mediocrity right here, folks! Get it while it’s hot.

Those of you who do have a life, may want to pop over to my amazing crystal shop and art gallery which is just full of my preciousssss.

When Ass Burger Boy was about nine years old, he announced that he was never going to leave home. I replied that he could live home as long as he pursued his education or had a job.

Note: World of Warcraft is not a job. Monday, we find out if he will be attending community college yet again this semester.

When he graduated high school, he said to me: “Mom, I bet you’d thought you would never see this day.” to which I replied, because I’m quick that way : “Oh, I knew I would see the day. I just wasn’t sure how old you would be when I saw it.”

He was pleased to be, as he so charmingly put it: “Getting out of Hell.” The social situations of school were very stressful to him, with the ever-present mouth-breathers who liked to call him “retard” or whatever lovely sobriquet their tiny little brains came up with. When they had a thought.

I was very nervous when he graduated because I was the only member of his family present. There was a lot of noise made by family members of graduating students, and I had a very sore throat.

Right before his name was called, there was a stellar graduate, who won a coveted scholarship, was active in sports, and an all-round popular, good guy. I cringed a little when the all the noise happened.

When it was Ass Burger Boy’s turn, it absolutely astonished me that the most noise made in the auditorium that day was for HIM! It truly was a teary-eyed experience.

I hope he learned something that day. School was so stressful for him because he obsessed over the mouth-breathers. He wasn’t even remotely aware how many people were pulling for him to succeed.

He’s already griping about the new people he doesn’t know yet, and about the chemistry instructor that he doesn’t like.

I’m resigned to the fact that his schooling will take a lot longer than that of a usual offspring. This is not an entirely small matter, as it impacts my social life somewhat.

Phone: Ring, ring.

ABB: “Hullo.”

Male voice: “I’m calling to see if witchypoo is ready for our date.”

ABB: (in little kid voice) “Are you my new Daddy?”

Phone: Click.